KUALA LUMPUR, Jan 3 — Thanks to the on-going wave of hipsterism, vintage items are selling like hot cakes, often valued way higher than their original price tags and more expensive than their contemporary counterparts. There are always exceptions, however, and vintage kimonos are one of them. Modern as Japan may be, the traditional ceremonial robes are still in demand, with the most prized designs costing up to several million yen. That’s for new kimonos; second-hand kimonos, on the other hand, drops in value greatly.
Pre-loved kimonos are thus not considered much of a commodity, unless they land in the hands of Clare Smith, owner of Kuala Lumpur-based Moniko, an artisanal label that re-crafts vintage kimonos into small carry wear pieces such as envelope clutches, wallets, purses and passport holders.
Trained as a packaging designer, UK-born Clare first came to Malaysia as an employee of a multi-national corporation. After three years, she felt burned out from her job and took a sabbatical to figure out her next step. Moving back to the UK was always an option, but by then, she had also fallen in love with Asia. She stayed on in the region, living in Korea for a year. It was during that time that she made frequent trips to Japan and began collecting kimonos.
These days, she travels to Kyoto, Osaka and Kobe twice a year and also sources from suppliers. One of the regular trips takes place every March, as that is when kimono sales are on, usually at the temples. She also hunts through antiques and flea markets, and second-hand specialist stores. In her current collection, the oldest kimono dates back to the 1920s while the oldest obi belts are from the 1970s.
“I have always loved textiles and would always buy fabric whenever I travelled. Maybe it comes from my mother, who was a seamstress,” says Clare. “Sewing is something I’ve been able to do from a young age. In my teens, I used to sew clothes that my cousin designed.”
When Clare began amassing kimonos, it was purely because she saw the beauty in them. Her initial collection sat at home for a long time before she thought of repurposing them into bags. The first piece she made was a small butterfly-style shoulder bag. “I followed a pattern I found off the Internet, and it was more of an exercise to refresh my memory about constructing patterns. The most difficult part is having to do things in reverse – you start with an idea, then work backwards and inside out.”
It’s also not as easy as simply cutting up swathes of fabric and sewing them together. Clare first has to clean the kimonos, then study the patterns and prints to work out how best to preserve their aesthetics and appeal while making sure the dimensions can be made into a practical bag. Depending on its condition, Clare can usually make 15-20 bags out of one kimono and about five clutches from an obi belt. She focuses on small pieces that are suitable for ryokou (travel). As the final step in the design process, she works out the best colours for the lining and zips that will complement the fabric.
Clare didn’t think that it would grow into a business at first; her earliest creations were either gifted to friends or sold to them for a low price. The demand for her bags grew as she participated in various bazaars. “Malaysia is a great place to test the market for new products. People are generally receptive and as the city is not too big, it’s easy to reach out to the right market.”
In 2012, Clare began working with refugee groups in Kuala Lumpur. “I never intended for my business to be mass market, as the products are all handcrafted. Moniko is really more of a social enterprise. I mean, sure I have to pay rent but I also want to make sure that things are done the right way, with no negative impacts.”
She found quite a few good seamstresses among the initial group that she approached and it started off well. Before she could launch her second collection, however, the women left Malaysia as they were resettled into new homes. Clare had no choice but to take on the production herself. “My house became a production line! I would wake up at 6am and sewed till midnight.”
Realising she couldn’t keep working at that pace, Clare continued searching for help and found that a lot of NGOs in Cambodia had existing sewing projects. She flew to Phnom Penh and went from shop to shop to ask for recommendations. After testing the waters with several entities, she settled on two groups with different disabilities — polio sufferers and landmine victims — based on the quality of their work, and ease of communication.
Every four to six weeks, Clare would fly there and spend time training them to sew her designs. “They’re quite resourceful, after I teach them the basic design, they go on and find better ways to do it!” says Clare, who pays the sewers by piece to ensure they are fairly compensated. “I have seen, and been appalled by, the conditions at some garment manufacturers... workers are stuffed into trucks, not unlike cattle. In Cambodia, the minimum wage is only US$140 per month and that’s following a 10 percent increase this past October.”
Besides its social contribution, Moniko has also taken Clare on a learning curve in the art of kimono and she is now fairly well versed in the many types (see side bar), designs and culture associated with it. Kimonos, she says, are made from fabrics designed specifically for such a purpose and each bolt measures 12 metres by 36 centimetres. Prices depend on the quality of the fabric and the calibre of the weaver.
Buying a kimono is also no tame affair; Clare has observed that when Japanese women go shopping for one, they spend time finding out various details about the pieces before deciding on one. Kimono masters, she says, have to study for years and years and take their craft seriously. “I used to worry what they thought of me cutting up the kimonos to make bags,” Clare admits. “I was hesitant to tell them but after I showed them my bags, they gave me the thumbs up!”
And why wouldn’t they, when Moniko’s designs highlight the best of the obi or kimono they are made from. Clare also makes sure to include the background of each bag in the labels, a stack of six mini cards that details the type of kimono it’s made from, period of origin, the name of the sewer, and care tips. There is also a reprint of the fabric, and a Moni Kode that’s assigned to each piece that tells of the year the bag was made, the fabric serial number, and the bag style. Go to the brand’s website and key in the Moni Kode if you want to know more about that particular piece.
Moniko’s philosophy is summed up in its logo, designed by Leo Burnett as part of the prize that Clare won in a competition organised by the agency about two years ago. Made up of three triangle panels, each represents a different area of the brand’s focus: Japan’s textile heritage, miyabi (elegance of the kimono), and social responsibility. The top panel symbolises the continuation of Moniko’s story and so is left open-ended. In its entirety, the logo resembles the letter M.
Indeed, like a never-ending circle, everything comes together beautifully for the brand and it begins from the moniker itself which, If you haven’t yet figured out, is an anagram of kimono. It’s a most appropriate instance of word play as Moniko’s bags are all about re-crafting the traditional icon into contemporary collectibles.
Shop Moniko online at www.mymoniko.com
Follow them on Facebook (www.facebook.com/ourmoniko) for updates on their collections and appearances at bazaars or markets. Their showroom at Publika is open by appointment only, email Clare at [email protected]
Moniko’s designs are also stocked at Kaleidoscope, Publika; Alison’s Place, Jalan Batai; Innai boutiques in Kuala Lumpur; several stockists outside of Malaysia — check website for details.
Vivian Chong is a freelance travel and lifestyle writer and editor. Read her other stories at http://thisbunnyhops.com
